Blood
by dunklenatt
Summary: It's his only way of overcoming his stress. Rated for selfabuse.


Author's note: Keep in mind that I don't know anything about this type of abuse, or what sort of pleasure it will bring. If any of you do, please email me and we can discuss about it and I'd be happy to change the feelof this fic... lol! Oh, and my beta is away for vacation so this is not revised. Any mistakes are my fault alone. I read thru this only once after I finished it... so, yeah, I'm expecting mistakes... hehe! Review and tell me, okay?

* * *

- 

Tezuka's hands shook a little as he took the scalpel from the nurse. Shit. He forced himself to steady them, hoping that no one noticed the slight tremble in his hands. It wouldn't be good for his career if anyone were to see that. He braced himself and continued on with his seventeenth patient since his shift started. His head pounded a little, but he ignored it. He couldn't afford any mistakes right now, not when this man's life depended on him.

He actually heaved a sigh of relief when he finished seeing to his last patient. His shift actually ended four – or was it five – hours ago but he couldn't leave since there was a serious accident involving a Land Rover and a SUV. There were around seven people injured and only two emergency doctors for the first two gruelling hours so Tezuka and his colleague had to work at top speed and with such precision that Tezuka had to admit it was the first time his skills as an ER doctor were pushed to their limits, if not beyond.

Then again, Tezuka never hated his job. Being an ER doctor wasn't bad, and he loved the challenges that the steady stream of patients brought with them. However, there are times when he couldn't felt more relieved when he finally left the hospital.

When his shift was over that morning, he stepped out of his scrubs and entered one of the shower stalls in the doctors' lounge. He didn't like the smell of medicine and disinfectant clinging on to him. Worse than that, he could feel a headache settling in. Tension. He was just stressed. He'd just attended to so many patients; he actually lost count of them. And now, he was bone-tired and wanted nothing more than sleep.

Nearly twenty minutes later, he entered his apartment, shrugging out of his dark trench and tearing out the scarf around his neck as he went. He didn't bother to switch on the lights and dragged himself to the master bedroom. It was nearly eight in the morning but the heavy curtains were drawn to prevent any light from entering the place. He needed as much darkness as possible to sleep.

But sleep just wouldn't come to him at the moment. Tezuka gave up tossing and turning in his bed to find a comfortable spot. He stumbled out of his bedroom and sat on the black marble-topped stool before the working table in his kitchen. His head still ached. He knew just what he needed. He opened a drawer and took out a switchblade. A familiar feeling came rushing back – his pulse quickened simply that little bit with that sickly excited knot at the pit of his stomach. A thrilled shiver ran up his spine as he slowly slid out the shiny blade from the plastic case.

Tezuka studied the blade like he'd never seen it before. He scrutinised the faint lines that divided the razor to small sections of nearly half a centimetre each. He slid the knife back in and then out again before aligning the gleaming edge to the top of his left foot. He pressed the sharp pointy edge into his skin, feeling excitement coursing through him as he watched a small red dot of blood appear. He put on just enough pleasure to cut through skin and dragged the blade down to the side of his foot. It felt nice. It felt as if all the tension left his body together with the blood that flowed out from the small, long cut on his foot. He placed the razor exactly three millimetres away from his first cut and repeated the same process. And again at the small patch of skin next to the second wound. And again. And again. And again.

Finally, he straightened up from his bent over position and watched those eight fine lines on his foot bleed. He had always been fascinated with blood. That was the main reason why he decided to go into a med school and then work as an ER doctor. He had always loved looking at blood. He'd seen so much blood in his life that he knew what colour blood would be and what kind of smell it would be if blood was left exposed to the air. He knew that blood would turn dark red after a few hours and then it would turn brown after that, with its edges crusted and the smell of rust stronger but the scent of freshness duller.

Tezuka lifted the blade in his hands and made a small but deeper cut on forefinger, next to the faint tanned line that was his scar from his previous laceration. He studied the bright red liquid that formed around the edge of his razor before running down his slim finger. He took a small vial from one of his drawers and squeezed some of the blood into it. He loved to see how the red of the blood would taint the clear glass as the droplets slid down the wall of the vial before settling at the bottom of the small container.

It was only when he thought he'd bleed enough then he went to the bathroom to clean the blood off his foot and bandaged it up. He cleaned up the small mess he'd made when he walked from the kitchen to the bathroom. And only when he'd cleaned up everything then he went to his bedroom and snuggled into his warm, comfortable bed.

He left the vial of his blood on the countertop though. He was spellbound by the beautiful rusty brown colour that the blood would be by the end of the day. It was such a rare shade of brown.

Oh yes, he'd be able to sleep now. The slight tingling in his lacerated foot which was in rhythm with his heartbeat was a comfort to him. He should've made the bandages tighter. That way, he'd be able to feel more of the lovely throbbing. But for now, the little tingling would do.


End file.
